Alex

She’s poor? She’s been destitute this entire time? It can’t be. How could I have not known this?

I never asked.

I curse and run a hand down my face, determined to control myself, but in the end it doesn’t matter. She feels abandoned. I don’t know if she’s telling me the truth, but if she is, then I’m the asshole here. I’ve been wrong for a long time.

Iggy pushes off the wall, where he’s been leaning. “I checked you out and you’re a decent enough man, it seems.”

“You checked me out?” I exclaim, but he waves his hands, ignoring my questioning gaze.

“He checks everyone out,” Matt adds.

“How did she get hurt?” I ask. My entire demeanor and tone changes to contrite and worried. “Last week when I came here, she had a bruise on her face.”

They look at each other as if having a silent conversation. “You didn’t ask her? You had ten minutes.”

“She’s proud. She wouldn’t have told me.”

“Yeah, we know. She won’t tell us either,” Matt admits.

“But you know, don’t you?” I ask.

“There’s an ex. Bad news.”

“Fuck,” I growl.

“Yep,” Matt adds. “We’ve tried to help, but like you said, she’s proud.”

“So . . . what are you going to do about it?” Iggy asks.

“Me? It’s really none of my business. She’s not going to let me help her.”

Plus, I’m supposed to hate her. I think. Or maybe not . . . Everything keeps changing from one minute to the next.

Damn it.

“You’ve made it your business. But I suppose I can dig further and take care of it myself.”

“No.” I hate the thought of another man taking care of Helen. “No. I got this,” I call out as I jog down the stairs as fast as I can. I find her about to walk into an “employees only” door. “Wait. Helen, please. Wait!”

She’s holding the door open but turns around looking defeated, her eyes wet. I don’t want to make a big deal about it. Obviously, she waited until she was away from me to let those tears flow.

I run my fingers through my hair. “Tell me one thing and then maybe I’ll stop bothering you.”

“Maybe you’ll stop? Those odds are terrible.”

She’s right. I’m not going to stop until she leaves this place. “Do you like working here?”

Without hesitation she says, “Yes.”

Damn, I hadn’t expected that answer. “Really? You didn’t look comfortable—”

She interrupts me. “Not upstairs. I enjoyed working downstairs. The pay is better upstairs,” she admits.

I reach into the pocket of the jacket that is now a wrinkled mess on my arm and take out my wallet. I quickly write her a check for the two thousand dollars I promised her. “I find myself in need of a personal assistant,” I blurt as I rip the check out and hand it to her. She hesitates for a moment, then takes it. That was not at all what I thought would come out of my mouth. Even though I had no clue what I would say, that wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities.

My face must show my confusion because she lets go of the door and pulls me to the hall, where it’s a little bit quieter. Not much, but enough so that I don’t have to yell over the music. “I need someone to help me while I’m in Miami. It’s not permanent, but I think you’d be a good fit.”

“A-are you offering me a job? You insult me, fight with me, then offer me a job? Are you crazy? What is your deal, Alex?”

“Yes,” I say quickly and her eyes narrow at me. “Yes, I’m offering you a job. No, I’m not crazy.”

“You are offering me a job?” she repeats.

“Yes.”

She lets out a deep breath. “Why?”

“Helen, you shouldn’t be working here.”

“You have no idea where I should be working. You don’t know me anymore, Alex. I thought I made that clear three minutes ago.”

“Yes, I do,” I argue. “Maybe I don’t know you like I used to. But I know you enough to know you don’t belong here.”

Helen

God, his lack of emotion, the way I can’t read him at all, it makes me want to scream. It never used to bother me, because I thought I knew him. At the core, I thought I knew what he meant even if he said it indelicately. But now . . . I don’t know. Maybe I’ve grown out of my naïveté. Or maybe he’s just the asshole everyone always pinned him to be.

I take a deep breath and exhale. I remember that I need to have patience with Alex. I remember that sometimes he doesn’t read people’s emotions like everyone else. “Why are you doing this, Alex? I don’t understand. Help me to understand.”

He looks at me with furrowed brows. As if I am the crazy one here. “I need help and you were always someone I considered smart. You are also very social. My social skills are somewhat lacking.”

“Somewhat?” I roll my eyes and I think—maybe—I see a small smile on his lips.

“I have events coming up, and I need someone to go with me. I also need someone to help coordinate some work I’m having done in my house. You need a better job and I need help. It’s a win-win.”

“You’re making this up. You saw me here today and you’re offering me a pity job.”

“And if I was?”

Damn it. It is a pity job. Which I, unfortunately, need.

“How much does it pay?”

“Two—” I must have made some sort of face because he quickly adjusts to, “three thousand a week.”

“What!”

“Four thousand?” His brows draw together. “What do you make, Helen? I’ll double it. Is that fair?”

“Alex Archer, are you that out of touch with reality that four thousand dollars a week is something you’d consider normal?”

“It’s not enough,” he deadpans.

“Stop! No! Damn it, Alex. Yes, it’s enough. It’s more than enough.” I take his face in my hand out of frustration. “I should take advantage of you. You’ve been nothing but arrogant and nasty for the last fifteen minutes.” I let go of his face and sigh, because damn it . . . he’s crazy, but his heart is still big. “Two thousand would have done it.”

“Well, then let’s do three thousand. But you leave here today and you don’t come back.”

“I need to think.” And breathe. Is it hot in here? And why did I grab his face? Alex didn’t like to be touched—at least he didn’t back when we were younger. He didn’t flinch or pull away, though.

My mind suddenly wanders to that kiss, that kiss that made my toes curl and my heart race. It’s the most we’d ever touched, although he kept me slightly at arm’s length, holding my face instead of my body. Nevertheless, it was wonderful. Before then, even an errant brushing of hands while playing in my stables caused him to jerk away sometimes.

“Jesus Christ, what is there to think about?” he bursts out crudely, again. “I’m paying you well, according to you. Let’s go. Come on.”

“The owners of this club have been loyal to me and helped me when I needed it. I can’t just quit on them without any notice.” He looks at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time.

“There are no friends, Helen. There are no loyalties. There’s business and there’s numbers. I’m offering you more money and it would be dumb not to accept it.”

“God, you’re cold and hardened,” I say, sadly. No friends? No loyalties? “And even though friendships and loyalties are easily broken for some,” and I look at him pointedly, “for me, they mean a lot.” This has taken well over ten damn minutes and has aged me ten damn years. I shouldn’t even be considering this. Working for an Archer. The most disloyal family ever. Even for the amount of money he’s offering . . . I’d be selling myself to the devil.

“I really do need help. It’s not a pity job. I don’t have time to interview people and find someone.”

“Are you going to act like you hate me while I’m working there?”

“We have a lot of history.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Except it answers one: he does hate me.

“The only thing I know, Helen, is that I’m prepared to toss you over my shoulder and haul your ass right out of here. And that’s not something I can explain. So, I’d advise you to take the insane amount of money I’m offering you instead.”

I consider his words. And then I consider this: I don’t want to work on the second floor of Duality.

“I can’t say that I understand you, but I also can’t say no to the offer.”

He runs his fingers through his hair. “I don’t fucking understand it myself, but I am glad you’re accepting it.”

“When do I start?”

There’s a noticeable release of breath on his end. “Monday. But you leave with me right now.”

“Fine, but I need to talk to Iggy and Matt about it first.”

He rolls his eyes, annoyance radiating through his body.

“They’re my friends. You may not understand it or have any of your own, but I do. Letting them know I’m quitting is the least I can do after all they’ve done for me. I may also need to help them make arrangements to get someone to cover for me.”

He groans, loudly.

“I can see working together is going to go splendidly.” I glare at him as I brush past him to find my bosses.

Alex

It’s my turn to wait outside while she talks to her bosses.

I’m surprised she didn’t just run out with the money I just handed her and the offer I made her. She doesn’t need these people; why is she being so accommodating to them?

Meanwhile, she didn’t leave with me immediately and she didn’t exactly look thrilled at the prospect of working with me. Me! The injured party in her and her father’s scheming. She should’ve been kissing my feet, given all the help I’m giving her.

My patience is wearing thin.

Every time I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, she says something that spirals me into the past. Loyalty and friendship? That’s a bunch of bullshit. The Blackwoods only have loyalty to themselves, and friendships are quashed if it benefits them.

In fact, I was able to buy her out of her job.

What a hypocrite she is.

But . . . somewhere inside, I think she’s being truthful about having been homeless and feeling abandoned. And that thought makes me feel an odd sense of guilt. But it’s fleeting, because then I remember how her father screwed us and there’s no way she didn’t know about it. She can’t be as innocent as she’s making herself out to be.

While I wait impatiently, I text Bradley. “Found a new assistant.”

“On a Saturday, night?”

“I’ll explain later. Make arrangements with Monique.”

Monique has been helping me out whenever she can. In fact, she flew out last week and had my house prepared for my arrival. But I’m sure Bradley’s relieved that I found someone so he can get Monique back to Seattle sooner rather than later. The man can’t do a single thing without her.

“Who’d you hire? Did you run a background check on him or her?”

I think about how to word it and finally decide on, “Her. And no. Not yet. It’s an old acquaintance I ran into.”

“Old acquaintance? I know all your friends. Who is it? Regardless, you need to run a background. Is the person trustworthy?”

Fuck no. She’s the opposite of trustworthy. Damn it. “Have HR send me the paperwork and I’ll have her fill things out and send it back. Run everything quickly. I need her to start Monday.”

“Got it. I’ll have Monique stay until Tuesday. She can run things by the new person, get her up to speed. You have a first walk-through at PharmEc at nine in the morning and it’s going to take all day, I expect.”

Shit. That’s right. I won’t have a chance to talk much to Helen.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t give me the name of this mystery friend,” Bradley texts just as the door opens and Helen walks out with Matt and Iggy.

“Thanks again, guys. For everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done had you not given me a chance.”

“Don’t mention it, Helen. You’re family. We’ll stay in touch,” Matt says, and she gets on her toes and wraps her arms tightly around him. An unusual sensation flows down my spine at the sight. “Please thank Nick for me too.”

“Will do.”

“Don’t forget our doors are open if you ever want to come back,” Iggy offers, and she smiles at him before turning to me in surprise. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I’ll give you a ride home,” I say. It’s past midnight.

“I have a car, Alex.”

“Well, I’ll follow you home, then.”

“This is going to be a pain in my ass. I may be coming back sooner than I thought,” she grumbles to the two men, who are still standing by the door.

Matt laughs. “Have fun, man.”

“I thought you said she was a great employee.”

“Oh, she is . . . was. Doesn’t mean she’s not feisty.”

Iggy ignores our banter, turning to me with a serious face. “If you fuck her over in any way . . .” He eyes me intensely. I don’t like threats, so I glare right back at him.

“You’re not acting like you’re just a boss,” I growl back at him, but he doesn’t reply. He just turns and walks back into his office.

I wonder if there’s something between Iggy and Helen. And the fact that I’m wondering pisses me off.

I practically have to jog to follow her to her car. Damn. I look around the lot, not sure which is hers. Luckily, I catch a glimpse as she gets into an old car. Quickly, I hop into my rental and follow her.

We’re on the highway for about twenty minutes before she gets off in a part of town that isn’t making me feel any better about whatever it is that Helen’s been up to all these years. The more time I spend with her, which at this point is minimal, the more uneasy I feel about what I imagined she’d been doing all these years. The pieces are not fitting together at all.

I don’t know Miami all that well yet, but this doesn’t look like a place I’d like to stay, much less live. She makes a few more turns and follows more curves, and then finally turns into the parking lot of a motel. The sign is blinking on and off, on the brink of falling apart. I look around and there are people loitering about. I’m not feeling good about this at all. I park my car and step out.

“You really followed me.”

“What are you doing here?”

She looks up at the two-level building. “I’m staying here. But just for a few more days.”

“Why? Why do you live here?”

“While I appreciate you giving me a job—and I won’t lie, I need it—you’re my boss, and that’s all. We don’t need to get personal. In fact, I have a lot of questions myself, but it’s not important anymore. So, I won’t ask, and I’ll expect the same in return.”

“You can ask me whatever you want and I’ll answer it.”

“I don’t want to know the answers because like I said, I need this job, and the answers you’re going to give me will make me not want to be around you. So, let’s respect the boundaries, shall we?” 

She won’t like my answers? Ha! Isn’t that fresh? Helen Blackstone is no victim.

But that thought gets pushed aside as my apprehension builds when two men begin roughhousing in the corner close to where we’re standing. My worry about her living arrangements escalates.

“Helen.” I glare up at the building and then at her.

She places her palm firmly on my chest. “Stop. You chose to live your life. You Archers never gave a shit what happened to me after . . . after . . .” She shakes her head. “Let’s not pretend you give a shit now, okay? You need help and I need money. That’s all this is.”

“Helen . . .” I say again. But she’s right. I didn’t give a shit about her. That’s true. I was pissed that she ran off with millions in stolen money, part of which belonged to my father. I still don’t know if she did or didn’t. I’m starting to think she didn’t. No one could lose that much money that fast, and by the looks of where she’s staying, she’s seriously broke. “That bruise on your face . . . the last time . . . Is he here? Are you in an abusive situation?”

“If I don’t want to talk about money, you think I’m going to talk to you about my relationship?”

“This is different.”

“How so?”

“Stop being difficult, dammit. Just tell me. Is your ex here?”

“How’d you even know about Luke?”

“Your friends are worried.”

She exhales. “No. Luke isn’t here. He doesn’t know where I’m living. You don’t have to worry about him, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m tired, Alex.” She takes out her phone and unlocks it. “I need your number.” I take her phone, program my number into it, and then text myself from her phone so that I can have hers. “Send me your address. What time should I be at your office on Monday?”

“Eight. And it’s not my office. It’s my house. I have a few things going on while I’m in town, and mostly I’ll be working out of my home when I’m not in meetings.”

“Fine.” She takes her phone back and stuffs it in her pocket.

I’m waiting for her to walk safely into the apartment when she stops, turns around, and takes a tentative step toward me. “I know my father’s not guilty. You should know that before I walk into your house on Monday.”

The lines have been drawn.

“Noted.” Maybe she’s innocent, but there is no way in hell her father is.

“Good night, Alex.”

“Good night, Helen.” 

Then she shuts the door behind her.

As a methodical and calculating man, hiring Helen like I did was out of character—impulsive and irrational.

Nothing good ever comes out of irrational behavior.

And I know there is no way this is going to end well.

With a niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach, I get in my car and drive away with one thought in my mind.

She can’t stay here. It’s not safe.